


Breaking All The Rules

by wheniamqueenx



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Friends With Benefits, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-15
Updated: 2017-06-15
Packaged: 2018-11-14 15:10:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11210661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wheniamqueenx/pseuds/wheniamqueenx
Summary: “Is it really a thing? This is only the second time, who says it will happen again?” Dan queries, aiming for a dismissive tone, but it comes out hopeful and as an actual question.Phil falters, only for a second.“Of course it will. We’re single men who find each other attractive and live together,” then adds, more tentatively, “unless you don’t want it to.”Dan looks away for a second, “I mean I guess unless we move out, the potential is there – we’d be silly to pretend.”orIt's 2014, Dan and Phil broke up in 2012 but remain best friends, what happens when they start sleeping together again?





	Breaking All The Rules

“There should be rules,” Phil says, suddenly.

Dan groans, not bothering to open his eyes. Phil’s eyes are fixed on a point above Dan’s head.

“Dan,” he says, flitting his eyes down to Dan’s heavy and sated form lying next to him.

It is dark out but Phil can tell there is a slight sheen across Dan’s chest where it’s exposed above the black and white duvet.

“Is this about scheduling again? We tried that remember,” Dan says wearily, one eye prized open to level Phil with a look that reads _‘really? Work now? Just after we had sex?’_

Phil rolls his eyes as though his statement should be obvious to Dan somehow.

“No, Dan, not work. For the sex,” Phil says.

Dan sits up, and turns his body fully to face Phil, who is propped up on one elbow.

“Uh Phil, do you not know how sex works generally? I mean unless you are suggesting BDSM, which, I don’t know I trust you with…” Dan is mainly being facetious, but Phil is for a second slightly insulted – he could totally be trusted with… _apparatus._

“I just mean like ground rules, on how we approach this,” he gestures his hand between the two of them, eyes bulging only slightly.

“Is it really a thing? This is only the second time, who says it will happen again?” Dan queries, aiming for a dismissive tone, but it comes out hopeful and as an actual question.

Phil falters, only for a second.

“Of course it will. We’re single men who find each other attractive and live together,” then adds, more tentatively, “unless you don’t want it to.”

Dan looks away for a second, “I mean I guess unless we move out, the potential is there – we’d be silly to pretend.”

The term ‘Rules’ has very much poured cold water all over Dan’s afterglow, but Phil is nothing, if not responsive and quick to act in these situations – and if it had occurred to Phil in this very moment there was no reason he would sit on it. Phil is already up and grasping a piece of paper, and a sharpie from Dan’s floor, then sitting cross legged on the bed in his boxers, and one of Dan’s t-shirts. Dan sighs, giving up on the concept of sleep, and also grabs a shirt, joining him.

**The Rules**

Never cancel a date for the one another

No Handholding

No Spooning

No Making Out or Kissing outside of Sex’

No Flirting if not to initiate sex’

No romantic compliments

Don’t let anyone else know

Finally, if we meet someone else it ends

The next day as Phil’s handwriting stares back at him, as he opens his wardrobe to rifle through his shirts – he can’t help but sigh. He can’t help the way his bones ache for his life to be different, he feels tired, and older than he is. It’s as if Phil has professionalised his sex life – _their sex life?_ – because of course the whole point of it is, he could have a sex life without Phil, this is what he has to keep telling himself in order to stay sane – in fact the larger point is he could have a sex life and a romantic life. Dan cannot bring himself to even think the term _‘Friends with Benefits’_ – it sounds so much like a contract.

Dan finishes getting dressed, then heads to the kitchen – his bed now empty of said Phil Lester. When he gets there, he finds Phil, who has poured an obnoxiously large portion of his cinnamons into a bowl, accompanied by a cup of coffee. When he notices Dan, he simply gestures towards it with flourish of his wrist. Dan raises his eyebrow.

“Are you rewarding me for sex? I’m not a dog,” at which Phil has the gall to blush, as though Dan’s arse wasn’t still slightly sore from being so thoroughly fucked by him.

“Uh no, but we do have some radio stuff we have to get done,” Phil explains, which to his surprise, Dan just shrugs and grabs the cereal and coffee.

“Living room?” He says, a mouthful of Cinnamon Crunch already in his mouth as he walks down the hallway, leaving Phil to follow him.

Radio talk is surprisingly productive, and structured, and only involves some mild procrastination the Nintendo. Despite being tired, Dan is almost suspicious sex has somehow energised him, he makes a mental note to masturbate more.

Although what is even more apparent, is that productivity makes Phil horny, at least this is the reason Dan has given for the fact Phil is now between his thighs for the second time in twenty four hours. To be more specific, he is on his knees by the sofa, his hands slowly and surely travelling up Dan’s still covered thighs. It seems strange up until last night, it had been months between the first time this all started.

Dan briefly thinks back to the first time, as the tentative feel of Phil’s warm palms is new but familiar – it had been in the back of a taxi on the way back from a premiere, and Phil had been much more drunk, he’d laughed mindlessly to himself, until Dan relented and asked ‘what?’ Phil smiled, still looking out of the window and said, _‘people are funny aren’t they?’_ Dan was definitely entering into an internal dialogue that had already been going on for while now – but it was nice to be let in – there was a stillness setting over the cab, a tiredness – but Phil didn’t seem tired, no, Phil had an energy about him, a sparkle in his eye when he finally turned to look at Dan, and, ah, a hand on Dan’s thigh too.

Present Phil’s hands have now stopped right at the crease of his thigh. His blue eyes are fixed on Dan’s own, who nods, his lip pulled by his teeth as Phil unzips him – the sunlight is almost too harsh against Phil’s pale skin, the blues and greens of his eyes, the clear and definite line of his hair. Dan swallows, it feels almost taboo, it feels dirty, his flatmate sucking him off on their sofa after work, technically during work, technically as part of a mid morning break. But to be even more specific, his best friend, now pulling down his underwear so it sits just under his arse – and in a distant sort of way his ex boyfriend – it feels naughty and exciting, the minute Phil presses his lips to his cock, he moans perhaps too loudly. Phil smirks, and says something about being as bad as the neighbours.

Phil clearly doesn’t care _that_ much about the neighbours, because Dan keeps moaning relentlessly, partly for the fun of it, and partly because it seems to spur Phil on, and mostly because it feels fucking great. Phil’s nose is pressed into pubic hair, and he is red right up to his hairline his lips stretched, and Dan’s balls cupped in his hands.

“Fuck, Phil, if you could see how you look,” he says, as he watches through hooded eyes, his hand mindlessly smoothing, and pushing at locks of Phil’s hair.

Phil swallows pointedly, eyes shut and fingers now digging into Dan’s thigh, before pulling up for air – Dan’s cock is exposed and shiny, kicking desperately against his stomach. Dan grabs for Phil, using the back of his neck to bring him up to kiss his open slack mouth, licking at his swollen pink bottom lip – Phil clings to his shoulder, and Dan can feel his cock rock hard against his stomach. Eventually it’s Phil who pulls away, simply saying low in Dan’s ear ‘want to make you come’. kissing just under his ear before settling back into his previous position.

Phil eases up slightly, toying with Dan’s increasingly sensitive tip, licking and sucking, leaning away to blow lightly – his fist firm around the base. Dan suddenly feels incredibly close to the edge, and Phil looks up at him and smirks. Dan would roll his eyes, but he is entirely too turned on, instead he watches the way Phil rubs his lips along the underside, a string of precome mixed with spit clinging to his lip and following his trail – it’s hypnotising, and Dan is definitely going to come with just a little bit more.

“Phil, can you – please,” he is practically whimpering at this point and not embarrassed about it.

Phil just knows, so it’s fine, he goes back to sucking more firmly and wanking Dan in quick tight movements, not complaining as Dan fucks into them. When Dan starts to come, Phil keeps his twitching cock in his mouth and swallows.

Dan feels as though he blacks out for a moment, and looks down to find Phil kissing his hip, and wanking himself off in his pants, dangerously close.

“Phil-” Dan says. ‘“Stop,” Phil stops.

“Dan, it’s-” he starts to say, oddly coy.

“For god’s sakes we’re not a married couple, can you please, come up here and come on my face.”

Phil gawps for only half a second, then he’s kneeling over Dan and letting Dan pull his cock out. A small part of Dan’s brain thinks about the potential to spoil the sofa, but for some reason that only adds to the appeal and desperation he has for Phil to make a mess of him. It doesn’t take much, a few firm strokes of Dan’s hand, and licks, then Dan presenting his open mouth, closing his eyes and moaning the minute the first bit hits his tongue, Phil lets out a string of curse words as Dan feels the hot fluid glide down his cheek. When he feels Phil collapse, he opens his eyes.

The contract turns out not to be the boner-kill Dan imagined it would be. In fact it seems to have wiped away any inhibitions. Any worry about what it might mean to the other has gone, because they collectively, have decided what it means. The initial shock of it all given over to the familiar which is just as sexy, in its knowingness – it means kitchen blow jobs, and lazy hand jobs in the office.

The first time had been terrifying, that night in the back of the cab and Phil’s eyes on his. Still, Dan knew in that moment it was inevitable – how Phil could orbit his life so completely and not have access to this part too. Of course he always had access, and when they kissed in their hallway, and it was their hallway, Dan couldn’t pretend or play it cool about the fact he is still attracted to Phil – Phil who is safe, but overwhelming all at the same time, Phil who was his first love. Dan could feel himself breaking apart, but Phil’s hands were firm on his shoulders, as if to say _‘you’re okay, I got you.’_ Dan knew it was not them getting back together, knew it was ‘Now’ not ‘Later’ or ‘Remember when’ even. They were too stable for that, too solid, even when drunk, Dan just somehow knew Phil had it in check, they’d worked too hard for a kiss alone to be a confession. Except then their inevitable house of cards begun to topple, as they tend to do.

It is a nondescript day in the Howell-Lester house, they are finishing up on some important emails and joint decisions, trying to get as much done as possible before they got on a plane tomorrow to Florida.

“That’s it. We’re done,” Phil says, pushing his laptop away ceremoniously.

“Really? Great,” Dan responds, clearly switching to a different tab on his laptop, then sinking down into the sofa more. “What do you wanna watch?” Dan asks, nonchalantly.

“Dan,” Phil says, at a sort of attempt at stern.

Dan flicks his eyes upwards for a microsecond, cautious of what is coming.

“You should really pack,” Phil says, voice still soft, a slight yawn present.

Phil is still in his pyjama bottoms from this morning, and he has a big tuft of hair sticking up, that catches light streaming in from the street – Dan wants to pat it down or quite equally he’d settle for pulling all the rest of it into tufts.

“Dan.”’

Shit, he thinks, must have accidentally looked too long.

“Uh what?” He says quickly diverting his eyes back to his screen, biting his lip slightly.

“Come on, I’ll blow you afterw –” he starts to say, quirking an eyebrow – it’s interrupted by a yawn “ – wards.”

Dan snorts, “wow much sexy Phil, very tempting.”

“Fuck you?... I’ll ride you.”

Dan then puts his laptop to the side, image burning clearly in his mind and sits up completely. Phil can’t help but laugh – a little giggle, tongue sticking out. Dan just shrugs his shoulders.

“What? I’m just going to pack, like I always do…no reason,” Dan says, eyes shifty as he grabs onto the door handle, failing at convincing – Dan as never not packed the morning of, or five minutes before, a trip.

“Right.” Phil says, trying to control his smirk – doesn’t want to wind Dan up so much he punishes Phil by not letting him ride Dan, cause really the reward is very much Phil’s too. Then in his half asleep mind, he lazily tumbles out. “If I’d known this worked, I would have started having sex with you again ages ago.”

Phil hears the words back about a half a second or so too late, Dan’s face has already hardened. He turns, and leaves the room, door shuddering behind him – if it were something else Phil would have shouted out exasperatedly about the neighbours, instead he just squeezes his eyes shut, as if to rewind time, or maybe in the hopes his eyeballs will fall back into his skull. He thuds his head backwards, but it is a dull and unsatisfying relief – light still leaking across the back of his eyelids.

Phil thinks back to the premiere, the stretch of white fabric across Dan’s chest, the way everyone looked at Dan, and how the flashes made warm brown eyes twinkle. It has been the first time in a while he’d got an intense pang of _‘mine’_ , a need for everyone to know it too – except Dan isn’t his, he isn’t anyone’s. Phil did not understand that feeling of greed and want, Dan is always here, soft and still, until he is restless,loud and domineering, seeping into every corner of his life. Why did Phil feel he somehow needed to have him more, to be so selfish, so unwary of the tentative nature of their friendship – which felt solid till this moment – the scaffolding is peeking through all of a sudden, stripped bare and vulnerable. Phil keeps his eyes shut, and counts his breathes.

He knocks on Dan’s door, counts to three, a shaky breath between each one – he can’t remember the last time he felt like this, approaching a caged animal, a room in the house somehow not even their house anymore in the moment. Except he does, of course, remember the last time he felt like this – it just doesn’t serve repeating. It had hurt so much to let one another go back then, even though they knew it was for the best.

Dan hasn’t answered, but Phil can hear him moving around, and he hasn’t said _‘fuck off’._ So Phil slowly pushes the door open. To his surprise, he finds Dan folding his clothes, and placing them strangely precisely and neatly into his suitcase. He sits on Dan’s bed, a risky move perhaps, opposite the suitcase and Dan himself.

“Dan, you know I didn’t mean – “

“I’m fine really. Forget it.” Dan cuts him off.

“Dan,” Phil repeats warily, Dan still hasn’t looked at him, not properly, hand idly smoothing the fabric of a top that doesn’t even need ironing.

Dan sighs, and runs a hand through his hair.

“Really, Phil,”’ his eyes flick up for a microsecond, so Phil can’t read much in them.

“You know how it is for me. I get wired before these things. It’s like, I’m an anxious person and It’s fun and great, but people you know? What if I’m not who they want me to be.”

“Okay, but. Still, I’m sorry, and you know,” Phil swallows against something in his throat for a second, then he’s standing in front of Dan, a hand on his shoulder.

Dan can feel Phil’s eyes on his face, imploring, he turns to him.

Then Phil says, soft and quiet melting into the slightly stuffy summer night: “you are not an obligation Dan. Okay?”

Something feels fiery about the way Phil looks at him, yet terrifying in how Phil can see his insides out for display, and Dan chose that, and he chose that with Phil only, no one else, not like this anyway – and it’s not that he’d take it back, it just sometimes feels overwhelming.

Then Phil is kissing him, Not frenzied, and hard, but slow and tender, and Dan has to pretend it doesn’t make something shoot down the back of his neck. Dan sighs into it. The thing is, they still fuck, Dan only half way through his packing. Half truths uttered, careful folding messed up – Phil has no right to complain about the fact Dan still basically has to pack tomorrow morning last thing, no right at all – their house of cards so nearly tattered. Phil climbs on top of Dan, limbs gangly, heavy and tired, and kisses Dan again achingly soft in the middle of the bed. Phil kisses his neck and tells him he’s beautiful. Then Phil is naked, they both are, sweating as Phil rocks his hips into Dan’s and whimpers, the head of his cock dragging against his soft concave stomach.

Phil rides him, and it’s slow. Phil is mesmerised at the feeling of sliding down Dan’s cock, all Dan can do is grip his hips and stare at his thrown back head. Phil’s thighs meeting his, solid and firm, again and again. Dan slides his damp finger’s along Phil’s back, then digs them firmly into Phil’s arse cheeks. Phil huffs out these little breathes, his eyes shut then flutter open until he is leaning over Dan staring directly at him, eyelids only slightly hooded.

“You’re beautiful Dan,” he says, and Dan can feel himself flush down his neck, his stomach clenching.

“Shut up,” he mutters, but his lip is quirking upwards, and Phil laughs slow and rumbling, then kisses him again.

They are awoken rudely the next morning by Dan’s alarm. Phil is plastered against his back with sweat, It’s kind of gross Dan reasons, but Phil makes a snuffling noise and buries his face into Dan’s neck, fingers absentmindedly running along the hair under Dan’s bellybutton.

“Phil,” Dan whispers, half turning towards him.

“Mmph,” Phil lets, and nuzzles his face further into Dan’s neck, his hair tickles slightly.

‘Plane. Packing.” Dan perseveres, nudging his arm slightly against Phil’s bare torso.

“I’ve packed,” he says, squinting his eyes open at Dan.

The sun sneaking through the window, and Phil’s pupil’s are impossibly small, Dan ponders how in focus he is to Phil right now.

“Yeah well I haven’t, thanks to you,” Dan says,trying for exasperated.

Phil has the cheek to grin smugly, and Dan only rolls his eyes a little, because god was the sex good and worth it – and also Dan has an out for when Phil complains in three hours that the taxi is literally outside, and Dan is still in his pants.

Eventually Dan chooses to peel the other man off him, before he gets too caught up on the feel of Phil’s slightly interested cock pressing against his arse. Phil dramatically flops onto his back, watching Dan as he goes to his wardrobe.

There it is, staring blankly at Dan, cold water over a metaphorical erection - The Rules, he’s bleary eyed, and tired, and he doesn’t have the time to decipher the amount of which they may have broken. His eyes are initially drawn to the one that reads ‘No Making out outside of sex’, they did have sex but for a while there Phil was kissing Dan more to convey a message, than to definitely follow through on his earlier promise. Perhaps Dan is putting thoughts in Phil’s head, he wonders, uncomfortable with how much the kissing felt to him, to be an act in itself, exploring and purposeless. He thinks of the crisp air of Manchester, brick against his back in an alleyway and _‘let’s go back to yours, the city is boring’_ and matching smiles, and woah, where did that come from? He turns to look at the real Phil, shaking off the phantom image, worrying at his bottom lip with his teeth – Phil is already fast asleep again.

Orlando is hot and overwhelming, humming with anticipation. Dan used to reason every year that it would the last one they went to, or the last one he went to at least. Youtube had felt fleeting to begin with, but year after year it remained in Dan’s life, feeling more reliable than most things do in your early twenties. It is full of unspoken rules, customs – like any other social or professional situation is. The thing is, when your career is a passion, and involves you as a person, lines blur very quickly if you let them. Maybe it’s why so early on, they’d learnt who to stick to, who’s hotel room didn’t have a twenty cameras ready to film an ill advised comment – or at least someone who they trusted to know what to edit out. They stay in corners at parties, and make sure not to get involved in drama. Their relationship to one another, and what it means, is knowledge to some, and an assumption to others but mainly a ‘what you see is what you get’ approach on their part – two best friends and business partners who operate in their own entire world that no one tries too hard to understand.

Carefully drawn lines though, are just that, pencil on paper, ready to be rubbed out at any moment. Perhaps someone thinks you are redrawing the line further down the page, giving them permission to ignore the previous one – or maybe Dan does something completely out of his own nature, out of his and Phil’s nature, that they think Dan has crumpled and torn up the paper the line has been drawn on entirely. Okay, maybe, this metaphor is wearing thin.

It’s Phil’s fault really. It is, okay? Well no, not really, Dan plays himself entirely – because who is he, a randy 14 year old up at midnight? They are stuck, stuck in that hotel room, with that one Youtuber that Dan has to pretend to like – loud, obnoxious and a social climber – Dan’s whole spine feels stiff – who invited them anyway? He really wants to leave, feels exhausted, as though he will say something stupid in his loosened tongue state. He texts Phil, who is too deeply involved in conversation with Joey Graceffa to notice.

‘Please, escape route, exit, something, set something on fire,’ he begins to type, hesitating for a mere second before making the last minute delirious decision to add – ‘I’ll eat your arse if you just get me outta here! Xxxx’

Which of course, on a base level is stupid, because in black and white there is now pretty undeniable proof, on Phil’s phone. Phil might open it not thinking to shield it, Phil might say he’d delete it and forget. Or, of course, Phil might leave his phone next to Jack Howard on the other side of the room, and Jack may pick it up thinking it is his phone for a second, and –

“Fucking hell Dan! Didn’t know you felt that way,” he slurs loudly.

Dan’s world stops, and fuck, why is everything so quiet all of a sudden – Phil turns away from his conversation, though politely still nodding like he is listening.

“Oh wait,” fuck there it is, “this isn’t my Phone.” Then very obviously, swivels, and turns to face Phil.

Dan does not know what happens after that, there are just words and sounds that make no sense and he leaves during the hubbub, not caring that he has no real excuse, and that it perhaps cements whatever conclusions people are currently drawing.

Dan finds himself by the hotel pool, glad that no official parties are going on tonight. He toes off his shoes and manages to peel his jeans up a bit, before dangling his feet into the water. He tries desperately not to think of certain quiff owning Youtubers, whose mouths are too big for their own good. He tries not to picture the shocked looks, but not even that, more the knowing looks, like they’ve given some access, some reassurance to their own gossiping. He wants to swallow the bitter taste in his mouth that is suddenly making him think of, friends, not all close, but friends none the less in such a poor light. He knows few have ill intentions but feels a piece of him is taken somehow.

“Fuck!” he accidentally lets out, the only corresponding sound a high pitched laugh far away, and a cricket chirping – luckily.

“Dan.”

“Fucking hell,” he grits out through his teeth, clutching his chest as he turns to face the the owner of the sound.

Phil stands there, sheepishly.

“Sorry I didn’t know how to without –,”

“It’s fine, really.” Dan says, making sure to smile.

Phil awkwardly twists his hand in his pocket.

“Phil, don’t just – you can sit.”

Phil sits, slipping his own sandals off, and placing them beside Dan’s – Dan observes the white pale of his feet through the blue green shades for a second – not reminiscing too long on holidays and trips gone by.

“So. That was.” Phil chuckles.

“Oh, this is funny to you, I suppose?” Dan hope it comes out with the mirth he means it to.

“What? Dan, come on, it’s whatever.”

“Oh really? Mr, let’s write some rules down, you are keeping track of how many we are breaking are you? Cause it’s in my wardrobe you know.”

“Dan,I, won’t tell you to chill. Cause I know that’s it’s annoying but – the list, is the list, it was an idea, more for you than anything.”

Dan looks up at that, and Phil seems to blanche slightly and forget his words at Dan’s intense eye contact – if he wasn’t tipsy he would swear there was a slight blush on the tops of Phil’s cheeks, and that would be, interesting.

“I didn’t want you to worry that I harboured feelings.” Phil doesn’t let it rest in the air for too long, “but I don’t care you know, about what other people think? It doesn’t change anything, we’re still us.”

Dan nods, and suddenly wants to kiss Phil to reassure him – instead he digs his fingers into his palms.

“Phil, I’ll always worry.” The intense V between Phil’s eyebrows grows, and Dan rushes to expand, “not necessarily us. Just you know, everything,” he laughs dryly.

Phil nods and bites his lip.

“I get it you know. Like,” he pauses. “I know everything is good right now, like it’s going well. But also I get that it’s scary, I know that feeling, like it’s so good surely the roof is going come tumbling down at some point – sooner rather than later.’’

Phil’s voice is calm and crisp, complementing the sensation of chlorinated water licking at Dan’s feet, the sincerity scares him though.

“Wow, way to comfort me Phil.”

Phil nudges his arm, and smiles warmly, seemingly unperturbed.

“We’ll be okay though. We’re in this together.”

Phil gets up to walk to the hotel room after a few more quiet minutes, not expecting Dan to follow. Dan is left with his thoughts, which are mainly fixed on, ‘but in what sense and what if we’re not, and what If I lose you,’ an invisible sort of damocles sword swinging above.

The next morning, they start talking projects, some way to capture this moment in time, “and from a cold business point of view, we should probably capitalise on this moment in time – strike while the iron is hot and all that –”

Dan interrupts,”as much as I love business Phil,” he says, slightly too sarcastically – Phil rolls his eyes. “I’d love to keep my promise,” they’d slept in separate beds last night.

“We only have an hour until our Panel,” Phil prompts.

Dan shrugs, “don’t act like you have that much stamina Phil.”

Phil only bothers to look scandalised for a few seconds before rolling his eyes, then throwing the towel to the ground he’d been drying his hair with,

That morning, Dan’s body only slightly heavy with alcohol he spreads Phil out on the white hotel sheets and kisses every single mark and freckle on his naked back, until Phil giggles at the way Dan’s eyelash catches a mole, and wriggles his hips impatiently. Dan relents and peels the fabric of his boxers down – the glinting sunlight through the blind splicing just under the upward curve of his arse. Dan playfully spanks him, marvelling at the the softness of Phil’s skin for a second.

His thumbs reach in between his cheeks, opening him up like a tempting and juicy peach, the thought makes Dan snicker only slightly.

“What?” Phil turns to look at Dan, pouting slightly.

“Nothing, peach boy,” he says, Phil only gets a beat to frown, until Dan is swiping is tongue in one long stripe across the back of his balls, and across the pink pucker of his arsehole. Phil gasps harshly.

When Phil comes by only rutting against the mattress and Dan’s tongue, Dan is awed at how Phil goes all twitchy and breathy, it seems to last a lifetime. The muscles of Phil’s arsehole flutters against Dan’s tongue, until Phil lets out a weak ‘stop’ and bats at Dan’s shoulder – who is seconds away from coming himself. Dan clambers up until he can press his hard leaking cock against Phil’s arse, whispering a soft ‘can I?’ into his ear, and Phil nods, arching to kiss his cheek – so Dan ruts against him until he is coming with a moan muffled into the back of Phil’s neck – come pooling on his lower back.

“Fuck, we have to shower again,” Phil groans.

“We should do it.” Dan says, still half on top of him not really moving at all – nor wanting to.

“Mmm?” Phil says, sounding dangerously close to falling back to sleep.

“The book, the show, everything…” He trails off, wondering at the open ended nature of what ‘everything’ means for them these days.

Phil turns to him and smiles at him as though he is the entire sun, kisses him quickly on the lips, then jumps up.

“Bagsy the first shower.”

Dan groans, but can’t remove the huge grin from his face.

Later, after panels and meeting fans, and some convincing by Phil, they go to a Playlist party. It just so happens that cute boy, who works for some network Phil can’t for the life of him remember, spends all evening exasperatedly trying to flirt with Dan - who seemingly doesn’t notice and instead clings to Phil, put his head on his shoulder, and pouts in a whiny voice how ‘he wish he could stay but this one is a task master,’– maybe, just maybe, Phil doesn’t do much to stop it or correct the assumptions Dan has carelessly created.

In the lift on the way up to their room Phil watches the line of Dan’s neck, his eyes are shut and head pressed against the mirror. Phil can see himself and the line of his mouth – how it pointedly does not ask _‘why did you lie?’_ Nor does he shoot himself in the foot by saying – _‘that boy was flirting with you, you know the one you told me for months you fancied but you were too much of a ‘rat’ for him to even notice? He noticed you and you let him think, what he wanted to think, that I was your doting nagging boyfriend.’_ Phil sways slightly, swallows a hiccup – brain bursting with ‘mine’ instead. He should shake his head, pull the thought up from it’s firmly wedged root – instead, he leans forward and licks Dan neck, who barely even starts, just limply rests his arm on Phil’s shoulder. Phil wants to bite too – except he isn’t that stupid, maybe. And if they stay up all night fucking, and come down to the pool, red eyed – well, let people think what they want - squirrelled away under the shade, Dan with his headphones and sunglasses on, seemingly careless, and nodding off occasionally. Phil scribbles down book cover titles.

England breaks something in Phil – in a way it wasn’t supposed to. They’d slept intermittently on the plane back, but were mainly full of excitement. Dan seemed anxious, but not unbearably so – he needed rest, they needed rest – but the work ahead didn’t seem daunting. It felt like a purpose, an unspoken agreement of going forward, together – of remaining and strengthening their partnership and Dan didn’t seemed to be swallowed whole by the idea of merging.

It starts when it’s raining when they touch down in London. On the cab ride back, Phil feels slightly suffocated, giving furtive glances over to Dan, who is mindlessly humming to himself, unaware. LA is so big, and London feels small, and grey. By the time they get back, Phil is on edge, and snaps when he finds Dan’s straighteners left plugged in and on his bed – Dan shrugs it off and apologises, doing a silly voice and pouting a bit. If he notices the shift in Phil’s mood he doesn’t say, maybe puts it down to tiredness.

Yet, a few mornings later - it isn’t much better. Phil has come down to the kitchen to find Dan humming cheerfully, pyjama bottoms riding low on his hips and a beaming smile for when Phil enters.

“Why are you so cheery?” Phil asks, voice rough still.

It comes out harsher than he means, but he’s still jet-lagged. Dan shrugs, and ruffles his hair, making a ‘d’awww’ sound.

“Someone’s grumpy.”

Phil pouts and Dan goes back to rattling dishes about and slamming cupboard doors.

“Despite the exhaustion, feel oddly energised by the convention for once,” Phil doesn’t respond.

Dan looks up from underneath his ruffled fringe. His under eyes are puffy, and bloodshot – Phil is pretty sure is way of dealing with the jet lag is not sleeping, and wonders what time he will crash in the afternoon - he looks very young this morning, all soft edges and optimism. A woodland creature indeed.

Dan wiggles his eyebrows at him, and slides towards Phil, arm encircling his waist.

“Want to go back to bed?” Dan says.

“Only just managed to get out of it,” Phil rushes out, laugh slightly strained, as he politely backs away from Dan, Phil does not look to see his response, and Dan goes back to humming. “Anyway, I want to get started on the book and the show and stuff, while we feel motivated,” he says, back still to Dan.

Dan seems sated by this response and goes back to humming.

Around four in the afternoon Phil asks ‘what do you think of this Dan?’ Mainly to his laptop, when he only get a soft exhale, he turns to find Dan hunched over his laptop head lolling to the side, fast asleep. Phil sighs, and reaches over to remove the laptop from his lap, gently nudging him so gravity pulls him onto his side, Dan briefly stirs to rearrange his head on the cushion his head meets with. Phil should probably wake him – perhaps in a bit he decides, and goes to look back at his laptop – except he keeps taking glances at Dan, his chest fluttering. The thumping sound of Phil’s heart beat out ‘mine’, he digs his fingers into his thigh. Phil longs for Florida, despite everything – he wishes they could have stayed in that hotel room, fucking and dreaming, and waking up together. Everything felt so much more simple. But that feels far away now, and Phil, finds himself shocked, to feel a slight stinging behind his eyes. Not sure what it is he has lost. He has everything he could want surely, yet it as if he has had a glimpse at another reality.

He must have been thinking awfully loud because as he lets his gaze wander over to Dan again he’s slowly opening his eyes and asking how long he’s been a sleep, swearing under his breath and stretching out so his feet hit Phil’s thigh.

“Are you okay? Phil?” Dan asks, sitting up, suddenly more alert.

The stinging must be more than stinging, something more visible etched onto Phil’s face. He clears his throat, blinking carefully.

“Uh yeah, but I have to go round to my brother’s.” Dan regards him, a blank look painted on his face. Phil adds, “now” and starts scrambling to get up.

“Oh, is everything okay? Do you want me to come with?” Dan asks.

“No, really, it’s fine – I’ll just,” Phil says, gesturing vaguely behind himself to the doorway.

Dan goes to open his mouth again, but whatever is in Phil eyes makes him hinge his jaw shut. Phil can see the tension, and the image lingers on the train journey over to Martyn’s, after a hasty phone call.

The flat feels like a morgue after Phil walks out the door – full of unspoken apologies, and memories in a way it had never felt before - a prison, an ending. Perhaps all this book stuff was really a way to cut Dan off – distract him. He’d never seen Phil like this – was not sure what it meant. Dan tosses his phone towards the ceiling, where he lies on Phil’s bed, it slips slightly in his damp hand nearly knocking out a tooth. Perhaps it is not a ‘Martyn’ shaped person Phil has gone to see at all – a date in fact, one he is too scared to tell Dan about. His stomach churns loudly, he reasons that is hunger though – which is when it dawns on him Phil had not said whether he would be back for dinner. He scrolls over Phil’s number again, he should order food – he shouldn’t bother Phil. Needs to give him space to make the decisions he needs to make, or the date he needs to fuck – Dan face twists at the thought. Before he knows it there is damp against his cheek, hot against his skin and he laughs bitterly – he can’t go on like this, he reasons, jerking his body off the bed. He goes to the bathroom – staring at himself long and hard.

“Pull yourself together, Howell,” he spits at the reflection.

He smacks himself across the cheek, then charges to his own room, opening up his wardrobe and ripping the paper stuck behind his clothes, turning it over – he begins to write.

Phil comes back around midnight, and by a turn of events, Dan is asleep already, sprawled across the sheets on his own bed but the sounds of Phil’s footsteps causes him to stir instantly. Dan blinks his eyes open to see Phil’s outline illuminated in his doorway, by the hall lamp. Phil moves into the room, and grabs for Dan’s laptop which is laying next to him in bed, placing it gently on the floor – he hadn’t meant to fall asleep. Dan sits up, his eyes beginning to adjust more. Phil is being strangely quiet and they both sit there for a bit letting it drag out, looking at one another. Suddenly Phil surges forwards, half way there jolting himself slower, then lowering his right hand digit by digit by across Dan’s shoulder.

“Can I?” Phil says, now centimetres from his face, but it comes out croaky.

Dan thinks - no, he _knows_ \- he should ask more questions, as he closes his eyes, nodding first, he thinks of the crumpled form of the piece of paper on his floor somewhere. Phil kisses him firmly, lips pursed, before softening, nose nudging against Dan’s. Somewhere there is a dulled alarm going off in Dan’s brain, but the rushing in his ear is louder as Phil kisses harder now, and Dan brings up a hand to feel out the stubble along his jaw - breathing in harshly through his nose. They haven’t done this since Florida – which isn’t that long ago, yet feels another lifetime away. It doesn’t take long for Phil to have Dan on his back, Dan’s legs falling open to bracket his hips. Dan pulls away, trying to adjust his eyes to look at Phil properly, but Phil’s eyes are heavy lidded and he won’t catch Dan’s gaze, hides his face into Dan’s neck and lets out a rattling breath – it sounds _wrong._

“Phil,” he whispers.

Phil grips his fingers deeper into Dan’s shirt, pulling it out and distorting it.

“Right, that’s it.” Dan says, gently pushing Phil off of him, and turning on his lamp, he sits cross legged, waiting for Phil to do the same, when he does, he accidentally lets out a gasp, Phil’s eyes are red rimmed.

“Phil – you,” he starts, but Phil looks away again, Dan gently touches his chin.

“Have you taken out your contacts?” Phil frowns, then shakes his head.

“You should go do that, I’m going to make bring you a drink.” Phil stares at Dan for a moment, until he breaks eye contact as he leaves the room.

Dan returns minutes later with two glasses of Ribena, and a clean pair of Phil’s pyjamas. Dan sits back on the bed cross legged, and waits for Phil to come out of the bathroom – when he does, he’s silent, and simply undresses and puts on the offered clothes in front of Dan.

“We’re going to talk,” Dan says, when Phil is finally settled.

Phil nods, and smiles weakly, sipping his drink gingerly.

“Is this to do with Martyn?” Dan says, heart thundering, bracing for the news – to be the calm in Phil’s storm.

“No, god no.” Phil says, eyes widening, clocking the not so hidden panic in Dan’s voice.

“I mean. Just something he said.”

Dan lets out of a sigh of relief, “so you went to see him just because?” Dan says, neutral as he can manage.

He may have let out a sigh, but his heart rate is still soaring, and he sits on his hands so Phil won’t see how they shake.

“I… went to see him to talk.”

Dan suddenly has the urge to run, he bites his lips so hard he is sure it will bleed.

Phil is quiet for a long time.

“Dan, it's not… bad. I’m just messed up, hey – hey,” the rigor mortis that has set through Dan’s whole body must be obvious, and Phil switches his concern to Dan – which makes him feel worse, it’s Phil who has obviously been crying, going to talk to his brother about something he could not even speak to Dan about. Before Dan knows it he is being held in the crook of Phil’s neck – fairly limply, but none the less – Dan is unable to resist inhaling the scent of the other man.

“I don’t want to lose you Dan,” Phil lets out.

“Why would you? I know I’ve seemed flaky in the past – but I thought, with the book and everything – I’m in this for the long haul Phil.”

As comfortable as Phil’s embrace is, Dan moves away to regard him properly.

“I thought if anything, it was you, who was sick of me – I thought you felt, I don’t know, guilty?” Dan winces.

“God, Dan, no I could never – I would have told you.”

“You’ve been really distant since we got back. I’m fine about the sex, as long as I still have you as a best friend, and we get to make things. But now this, the crankiness, the distance – the not telling me how you're feeling. That’s – hard.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, I just want to help.”

Phil lips fall into a tight line.

“Unless I’m the problem that is.” Dan lets out a forced laugh to hide the shake in his voice.

Phil’s mouth barely twitches. Dan’s eyes flit around the room, he thinks of the paper on the floor somewhere, eyes the pen mark on his thumbnail. He could blow this open, blow the whole thing and risk it all, that was the plan, wasn’t it? But suddenly he doesn’t feel ready. Except they can’t carry on like this, but he’s scared of what’s on the other side. Dan buries his head in his hands, fingers dug into his hair and bracing his skull. It hurts to look at Phil.

“Maybe we should just go to sleep,” Phil says, sounding broken himself.

Dan looks up quickly enough to give himself potential whiplash.

“Phil, are you kidding me – how am I supposed to – You’ve been crying and you went to see your brother, on a whim, when you could have just phoned him, at night? I can’t just go to sleep.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine, I’m just worried,” Dan picks at a thread on his pants.

“He says we should stop sleeping together.”

“O…kay. That’s fine. Did you think that would upset me, that you’ve what, met someone or…?” Dan tries for subtle but a lump is growing in his throat.

“I don’t know,” Phil says, uselessly. “I’ve not met someone,” he adds as an afterthought.

Dan’s shoulders unhinge slightly.

“But you think it complicates things” Dan adds. Phil doesn’t respond so Dan continues, “that’s fine. I do too, it does –”

“Oh, really?” Phil sounds more awake, inquisitive, Dan squints at him.

“Uh, well yeah, it’s – lines get blurry don’t they? Especially with our history.”

Phil hums noncommittally. Dan can’t believe he’s bought up their relationship, their past one, it feels he has broken some unspoken rule – but Phil is not defensive. So he probes further, feels it out.

“We’re not just best friends, we’re housemates, exes, business partners… then, what, friends with benefits?”

Phil blinks at him resolutely, as if he is in some way being goaded, which - well he would be correct there.

“Did you not think that would make things… complicated?”

“I…” Phil begins but Dan keeps going.

“Or did you think that would make it easy, that you could open pandora’s box and we’d just be back there, picking at the same loose old thread of attractions – cause why not. And it seems, it seems sustainable, but actually it’s impossible it's totally unsustainable, all we do is become more of a unit, no need for anyone else-”

This seems to get to the older man.

“I thought you were happy about that, I thought you were happy, the book, the show –”

“I am Phil, of course I am – That’s not what I’m saying. I’m saying I can’t continue forwards blindly,” he stands up, in a less dramatic way than he’d hoped, more of an amble off the bed, and grabs the piece of paper from the floor.

He puts it on the bed and Phil stares.

“Dan I don’t –,” he starts to straighten it out, then he notices red marker on the other side and turns it over.

Dan thinks he might pass out.

**PROS AND CONS OF TELLING PHIL I LOVE HIM**

Pros: 

He might love me back (Haha) 

I know where I stand 

I can move on 

I can get some sleep 

 

Cons:

He doesn’t love me back 

No more sex

It ruins our friendship

Career over

Homeless

 

“That’s a lot of cons, Dan.”

Dan shrugs, “It’s worth the risk still. Phil – “ he clambers onto the bed, and grabs his hands, he may as well go out with a bang, “I’m in love with you. And I know, it's crazy, and we broke up, and yadada, and maybe you don’t feel that way – but maybe just maybe we could still make this work. As friends anyway – and.”

On an exhale, Phil says, “I don’t want to be your friend,” words tumbling together, for a moment Dan’s heart seems to stop, then Phil is gripping this face either side.

“I fucking love you, I’m in love with you– I thought if I – but I can’t I can’t, I love you so much and I can’t lose you.”

“Hey, hey – It’s fine, I’m here,” then he practically falls into Phil, lips sliding together, and catching, soft and tentative. Dan is on top of the Manchester Eye again, and it’s 2009 and his heart is beating so fast he might be sick – except, it’s not that, it’s not.

It’s everything, it’s their entire history and their future too, it feels anchored to this moment, to this man - an eternal axis that he circles.

**Author's Note:**

> I was going to make this longer, and add a scene or two of cute stuff about them dating again - but i've spent far too long fussing over this fic and decided to end it here for now.
> 
> Feel free to come chat to me on tumblr: [beczor](http://beczor.tumblr.com/)


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